Remembrance And Renewal by Avatar Arkmage and Nigel Tatsuya
Chapter Seven: Awakening
Harry decided to remain at his father's side until help arrived. Although he longed to somehow comfort the severely wounded Severus, Harry was careful never to move too close, for he was little more than a cold, disembodied soul at the moment, and Severus was already shivering in the low ambient temperature of the empty washroom.
After numerous attempts, Harry managed to gather the dry towels from the nearby racks, and used them to cover Severus. He was careful not to make any sudden movements, which could potentially frighten the already traumatised young man, who was but a few years older than Harry in this time.
Severus's puffy black eyes found Harry, his focus steady, unwavering. "I-I'm sorry."
"Why?"
Tears began flowing anew, and Severus bit his lower lip to stop it from quivering, but only succeeded in starting it bleeding once more. "I've d-denied you life. I've denied Lily, your mother, the chance to bear you..."
"What? You think I haven't been conceived yet?" Harry gasped. "But I have!"
Harry stopped when he saw that Severus had closed his eyes. Upon closer observation, Harry determined that he had lost consciousness. He might have been in shock from the massive loss of blood, for the towels on his wounded body, once white, were now bright scarlet with blood. In desperation, Harry rummaged through a nearby bin, withdrew a discarded tin, and kicked it about the washroom until the security wizards arrived to investigate.
Harry jumped forward in time, and was relieved to find that Severus had been taken to St. Mungos. Surprisingly, Albus Dumbledore was at his bedside.
"Can you not heal him more completely?" The aged headmaster asked the mediwizard.
"His injuries are too extensive, such that even the magical pathways through his circulatory system are compromised," the mediwizard lamented. "If we heal his flesh too much at this point, the pathways could connect differently than they were before, and Severus might not be able to use his magics as he once did. He would be whole, but would need to relearn many things, even to cast the most basic spells and charms."
"So what you're saying..."
"I'm afraid so," the mediwizard sighed, as he assessed Severus's healing wounds, "we've stabilised him and healed him partially, but it is up to his body to remember the pathways his magics took before, and repair them on their own."
"How long?"
"Weeks. Perhaps even a month."
"Please, Headmaster." Severus implored. His wounds looked considerably better, and Harry surmised that weeks must have passed. Severus's voice however, was still weary and wracked with pain, and he still could not meander far from his hospital bed. "It is the only recourse we have. Allow me spy for you! I'm already marked, and I'll be condemned to reside with the devil himself if the side of the light does not take full advantage of this! Even if the Order does not, once I'm no longer of any use to him, The Dark Lord will terminate me anyway!"
"No, Severus there will be other..." Albus Dumbledore began, his hand in Snape's firm grip.
"...Other families destroyed! Other lives ruined!" Severus could barely contain his rage in his now hollow eyes. "Please Headmaster, I am capable of informing the Order of The Dark Lord's movements now."
"You don't know that he will trust you, Severus. You may have been inducted into his service only because Voldemort required a potion master as skilled as yourself."
"He will trust me. I will be an utterly submissive man to him, obedient to his every whim. When The Dark Lord summons, I will apparate to his side, behaving as a broken man."
Harry sighed, he suspected Severus was at least partially broken, and was unwilling to admit it, even to himself. Now his unacceptable behaviours in Harry's present began to make more sense. Why he could not bear to be touched; why he wore clothing that concealed everything but his face and hands, even on the warmest days; why he never smiled; why he was always in such a foul mood and even cruel towards others. He had been broken for many years, and the consequences had compounded.
"If we do not, who then?" Severus pressed, his yellowing teeth bared.
Dumbledore regarded the teenaged Severus Snape gravely. "You are aware, that this will mean your very life if Voldemort discovers your deceit."
"I'm condemned either way! It is only a matter of when. Kill me now, or kill me fifty years from now, there is little difference."
After several more entreaties, Albus Dumbledore nodded and cast the legillimens upon Severus, to better know his heart. Severus was a Slytherin, after all, and not an easy man to trust. For next hour or so, Severus alternated between screaming in agony and weeping helplessly.
Albus Dumbledore hastily lifted the legillimens, and pulled away, tears flowing freely down his cheeks, and into his beard. The usual twinkling in his blue eyes was absent.
"Now you know." Severus sobbed, obscuring his face in his hands.
The aged headmaster nodded, looking many more than his then 139 years.
"Will you allow me to spy for you?"
Albus Dumbledore urged Severus into a more comfortable position, and smoothed the blankets over the battered boy's form. "Ask again, Severus, when you are well. You need your rest at the moment."
"Headmaster? Headmaster!"
"Good Heavens!" One of Severus's mates gaped on what might have been his first day back at the University. "What's happened to you? You look as though you've been attacked by wolves!"
"Bugger off, Wilkes!" snapped Snape.
"But Severus, I was just..."
"Nosey parker!"
"Sorry I asked, then!" the poor bloke looked genuinely confused at Severus's tone. Harry soon surmised the reason;Wilkes had been one of the death eaters who had assaulted Severus whilst under the influence of the Animalia potion. Temporarily without the use of his higher brain, it must have been that Wilkes had no memory of that incident.
The memory was all too fresh in Snape's mind.
The scene changed again, and Severus, who was now clad in long black robes, stood before Lily Evans outside the science building where he worked. He was still slightly unsteady on his feet, and Harry could see faint scarring along the young man's cheek, jaw and temple.
The look of pure hurt on his mother's face nearly ripped Harry's heart in two. "But Sevvie! Why? WHY?"
"Because you are nothing more than a mudblood! Intelligent, though you are, your knowledge of anything in our world is gathered only from books, and the few years you've spent living amongst us. You'll never truly integrate into our culture, or understand our ways fully." Severus said unconvincingly. "And..." Severus's clenched his teeth, "I do not love you, Lily."
"What are you saying?" Lily cried.
"Surely nothing has adversely affected your hearing," sneered Severus, although his black eyes were glistening more than usual, "I've stated that I do not love you, must I say it again? Now go away, you're hindering me from my duties."
Lily drew her wand to hex him, but thinking better of it, slapped Severus hard on one cheek, and then on the other.
Severus cried out as pain exploded in his face. Lily had struck him where his cheek had been ripped open by an Animalia-influenced Death Eater just weeks before.
"I never loved you, Lils! I just took advantage of your willingness." Severus ground out, still in the throes of pain. "How could I ever truly love a filthy mudblood?"
Lily hexed Severus repeatedly, whilst Severus continued to insult her. To Harry, it appeared as though his father's goal were not only to lose his mother's love, but to earn her complete and total hatred.
Harry was furious at Severus's actions, and even managed to drop a phial on Severus's head when the youth eventually returned to his laboratories. Harry shouted angrily at his biological father, not caring whether or not Severus could actually hear him. He was about to upset another phial onto Severus, when he saw that his father's eyes were red and puffy, and there were the remains of tears on his now-scarred cheeks.
"Better she hate me than become the quarry of The Dark Lord." Severus said to the empty' room. He turned to where the spirit Harry was floating overhead, tears streaming once more from his eyes. "Better you hate me as well, for we shall never walk the Earth as father and son. I've denied you life..."
The image of the younger Severus faded, and for a moment, Harry believed he had once again slipped out that moment on the timeline. He realised shortly thereafter, that his eyes were so full of tears that he could no longer see.
Professor Severus Snape was roused by the sound of people shuffling past his hospital bed, and toward Potter's. Had the boy's condition worsened? Had he died?
"Oh the poor boy!" Professor Minerva McGonagall remarked. "What is he dreaming about? He's crying."
Madam Pomfrey crossed her arms over her chest. "After what has happened to him, I cannot begin to imagine the horror. Those bloody Dursleys ought to be nailed to the rafters by their smalls!"
Severus rolled onto his side, facing in Harry's direction, and saw that there were tears tracking their way down the youth's cheeks.
When Albus Dumbledore caught Severus staring, he feigned as much disinterest as he could. He was the boy-who- bloody-would-not-die after all, of course he would survive. And like his sire James Potter, Harry would live to be an infuriating prat.
"Snivellus!" came James Potter's voice from outside the laboratory's windows.
Severus Snape ignored him, and continued fabricating graphorn horn for the potion he was brewing.
"Hey Snape!" it was Sirius Black's voice, "hey you manky bampot! Get your arse out here! We wish to speak with you!"
"If you don't come outside, we'll come after you!" Peter Pettigrew threatened.
As much as Harry disliked Snape, he could not help but be angered at the Marauder's actions, which reminded him of the Slytherin trio. Or that of Dudley and his friends.
Sirius picked up some loose rocks which had chipped away from the cobblestone path, uttered a spell, then threw them through the laboratory window. A few of the rocks fell into the cauldron, splashing the boiling potion onto Severus, while the other rocks struck Severus.
Severus gathered the rocks from the floor, retrieved the ones in the caldron and stalked toward the window.
"No...no don't!" Harry warned.
The dour youth then pelted James Potter, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew with the rocks, striking each of them at least once. One of the rocks struck Sirius in the eye.
James immediately drew his wand, and cast a curse which inverted Severus, and floated him out the window in a cruel parody of what they had done just over four years ago. As before, Severus's robes fell over his head, but this time, no greying undercrackers were revealed underneath, but clean white ones and a network of supportive bandaging.
"Whoah Snivelly," Sirius sneered, "did you hurt yourself trying to don muggle clothing, or did Lily do that to you when you broke up with her?"
Chagrined, Severus tried to cover himself. Mercifully, or mercilessly, James Potter lifted the spell, and dropped Severus onto the ground. "Whatever she did, if she did that, you deserved it for treating her the way you did. Why did you break her heart like that?"
"It is none of your concern!" Severus hissed.
"How you've treated Lily is my concern, being that she's realised that you're not enough man for her, and is to be MY WIFE now." James shouted.
Severus merely nodded, and made to return to his work. James however, seemed unsatisfied and kicked Severus in the centre of his back.
"Are you not overjoyed, Potter?" Severus groused, somewhat breathlessly. "You've wanted Lily all along, and she's finally resigned herself to a life with you. Now naff off, Potter, take Lily for a ride on your broom."
"Why, Snivelly?" Sirius interjected. "She didn't like yours?"
When Severus ignored the barb completely, Peter dashed ahead of him, blocking has route back into the laboratory. Sirius and James jumped the still-convalescing youth and subdued him with ease.
Harry turned to the spirit James, who was watching his living self and friends pummel the defenceless man on the ground, "Dad, three against one?"
James averted his head, and Harry felt deep remorse surge from him.
"And he was already injured..." Harry said, pitying Severus's feeble attempts to escape the three boys.
"We didn't know," James sighed, "and I was too blinded by anger at how he hurt Lily! Your mother was distraught when Sniv-Severus cast her away like yesterday's issue of the Daily Prophet."
"Besides," Sirius broke in, "what were we supposed to do? Walk up to Snivelly and ask him if he's been hammered by anyone lately?"
Harry did not believe he was truly speaking in defence of his most despised professor, but the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. "So it took all three of you to avenge mum's feelings? Have you ever fought fairly in your entire life?"
Harry regretted his words, but was overwhelmed with concern for Severus and found himself back in Mervidith Snape's now empty house. It felt more empty than ever, even though Harry realized there was a figure sitting at the foot of Mervidith's leather chair, clad in black robes which concealed every vestige of exposed skin, save the man's face and part of his hands.
It was Severus Snape.
In his arms, he held what appeared to be a handmade doll. On its head was the blue wool hat Harry had seen Mervidith knitting in an earlier vision, and Harry was overwhelmed with grief. His grandmother must have also made that tiny, smiling doll, and charmed it to react to any affection shown to it. She had probably made it for Harry to hold in his tiny arms when he was born. Its smile grew wider each time Severus hugged it tightly, and its whole body glowed faintly, which would surely serve to comfort a small child afraid of the dark. Harry also noticed that it tried to nestle itself closer to Severus each time he tried to push it away.
"I'm so sorry," Severus whispered to the doll as tears rolled down his cheeks, and fell on the knitted blanket he had swaddled the doll in. "I've done a far greater injustice to you, than my father ever did to me. I did worse than kill you, my dear son." Severus began sobbing. "I've denied you life..."
Harry floated in front of Severus and grasped his arms. To Harry's surprise, he was able to hold onto his father as though he were a solid entity. "Father...!"
Severus made no response, but embraced the swaddled doll in his arms more tightly.
"Father!" Harry shouted more stridently.
"Go away, little green-eyed angel." Severus barely managed to choke out. "I've failed you...I've failed everyone...allow me to atone in the years I have left!"
"No Father!" Harry shouted, although he was unsure whether or not Severus could hear him. "You did give me life! I am alive!"
"Witches know their bodies well," Severus said without looking in Harry's direction. "It has been nearly five weeks. If your mother, Lily, if she was indeed with child, she would have told me. How, or why you are here now...I do not understand."
"You didn't give her the CHANCE to tell you!" Harry screamed.
Severus began weeping in earnest. He curled into a ball on the floor, still holding the doll in his arms, and looking every bit the grieving father he truly was. Harry floated around him in circles, his wails rivalling those of Moaning Myrtle.
"Better that you never existed though." Snape went on, his face looking more and more like the emotionless mask Severus customarily wore in Harry's present. "You'd have an even harder life than I had. You'd have no grandfather, no grandmother, and in a short time, no parents. And you'd be a marked boy. You'd only know grief in this life. Father is a spy now, little angel. Spies only live as long as they can uphold their facade. Unless Father's skills at espionage are exceptional, he will only live a few years... until the Dark Lord learns of the betrayal." Severus stopped and shuddered, he had received but two hours worth of the Dark Lord's unadulterated wrath. "And in all likelihood, the Dark Lord will spill yours and your mother's blood as well. Neither you, nor your mother deserves that. Farewell, my angel son."
"No!" Harry cried, frustrated that Severus could not seem to hear him. "No no no no no!"
"Go back to your place of origin. I do not know where that is, but I've heard it said that it is a place without hate, without want...a place where there is no sadness, or loneliness." Severus stopped, tears were flowing freely from his eyes once more. "I envy you, my son, being allowed passage into a place mortals cannot. My mother, your Grandmother, said that it never grows dark there, because your souls shine brighter than the combined light of all the stars in the universe. Go back now, angel-son you'll not be lonely for long. Your grandmother is probably there awaiting your arrival, and ... and father will join you shortly."
"Nooooooooooooo!" Harry wailed, circling over Snape's head.
Harry faded from the scene. So much needed to be righted. And Harry was ready to begin.
Harry thought deeply on the infirmary in his own time, and he was there on the instant. Around him, with nothing but the deepest love and support, were Lily, James, and Sirius. Harry hugged them all in turn. "As you can see son," James began, "there are many things we wish we had done differently in life."
A pang ripped through Harry's spirit form more effectively than if a dagger had pierced his heart. James and Sirius regretted their actions toward Severus; how they had added proverbial irritants to his already deep wounds. Harry felt both their guilt and their powerlessness. They had once had the power to help Severus, or at the very least to ease some of his heavy burden by not adding to it. But they could do nothing.
Heavy though his heart was, Harry knew what he had to do. "I'm going to miss you, Mum, Dad, Uncle Sirius."
"We'll miss you too, Harry." James, Lily and Sirius said in unison.
"You don't have to be entirely without us though." James said, wiping tears from his ghostly, hazel eyes. "As soon as you're able, seek out one of the House Elves at Hogwarts. Her name is Yumi, she used to be the Potter house elf. She served many generations of Potters until our deaths left her orphaned."
"We had a house elf?" Harry dreaded Hermione's reaction to that revelation.
"Most old wizarding families have at least one elf," explained James . "Yumi was so dutiful. And quite a good artist."
Harry's jaw went slack when he heard that. It had not occurred to him that house elves did anything other than menial tasks.
"Ask her to paint a portrait of us." James went on. "All three of us if you like. There are special paints and pigments you'll have to acquire for her, and special potions to mix into the paints."
"Convenient huh?" Sirius cut in, patting Harry on the back, "having a potion's master for an old man?"
"You can have yourselves made into a magical painting? So long after your deaths? You can really still talk to me?" Harry could not believe it. Did he dare hope?
"Many house elves are more powerful than the wizards they serve. If anyone can create a means for us to maintain contact, it's Yumi." James went on with a certain fondness for his former servant.
Harry turned toward where his body lay on the hospital bed. Save for extremely shallow breathing, Harry's body was completely motionless, as though he had ingested the draught of living death. On the bed next to him, much to both his surprise and to his relief, lay Severus Snape. Both men looked worse for wear, but alive and safe nonetheless.
"Wait Harry, there is one more thing." Lily's voice halted him.
Harry stopped within inches of falling back into his body. "What is it, mum?"
"Although it is your choice to approach your father with these revelations, I must caution you." Lily said, looking lovingly at the still forms of her son and her former lover as they on their beds. "While living as a father and son could bring great joy to both of you, this will not be without great danger. Although Severus is an outstanding occlumens, Voldemort has been attempting to break him down all these years..."
"But Snape is one of the most skilled..."
"...yes my son." Lily went on, laying her translucent hand over Snape's almost cadaverous one. "But he has been subjected to tortures and the Cruciatus curse more often than most human beings can endure. His increasing short-temper, paranoia and ever emptier expressions attest to that. He is fast reaching the limits of his endurance, and is gradually losing control. When he does, Voldemort will gain full access to his mind."
Harry lowered his head. What hopes he had of demolishing the walls of their animosity, which had been fortified over five long years, and beginning construction on the foundations of their future as family, burned to the ground. Telling Snape the truth would endanger both of them.
"I want to at least talk to him." Harry said, a new and more profound frustration flaring anew.
"Go on then, talk to him if you like!" Sirius said reassuringly. "If I've learned anything over the years, it's that Snape's tongue is more destructive than his hands. What's the worst that could happen?"
"He'll despise me even more than he already does?"
"If he can accept those affections after all these years of being so deprived of them." Lily said, kneeling beside the sleeping man. "Just as giving a starving person too much food all at once could be dangerous, so could giving him too much love after such an absence..."
"No danger in that," Harry lamented. "He probably won't allow me near him, he hates me."
James rolled his eyes. "Did you jump through the past with your eyes closed? He doesn't despise you! He despises me, and you, as Harry Potter, but do you really believe he hates his own son?"
"You saw Snivelly crying his beady eyes out over his green-eyed angel!'" Sirius cut in. "Once he knows who you really are, he probably won't hate you anymore. He might even give Mrs. Weasley competition for the award of 'most sappiest and smothering parent of the year,' and then you can kill ol Snapey with kindness if you like. "
"Feed him the mushiness until he pukes if it pleases you." James added mischievously. "Who knows, it might actually make him stronger to Voldemort's attacks if he knows that there is some one who cares about him, and wants him to survive."
"Ohhh, you don't really hate Harry, do you?" Sirius asked, moving closer to Snape and patting his forehead roughly enough to push the long haired man deeper into his pillow. "You hate me and James don't you, you git?"
"Padfoot!" James chortled, stopping Sirius before he gave Snape a headache to go along with the body aches he already had. "If you're worried about him rejecting you, why not allow him to know you as Harry. Just Harry."
Harry smiled as he recalled his own words from shortly before he embarked on his journey into the magical world. How fitting they should be spoken again as he returned to that magical world. He bid his mother, adopted father and godfather a final farewell and leaned into his sleeping body, relishing the knowledge that he had one living parent waiting... whether he knew it or not; whether he wanted it to be or not
Harry was overcome with a feeling of great malaise and lethargy. He was back in his battered, and nearly drowned body. Undaunted from his objective, he turned toward Professor Snape's bed...
...and saw that the man was staring back at him.
Severus Snape wanted nothing more than to turn away from Harry's intense stare, currently unencumbered by the overly thick spectacles which normally diffused their strength. He longed to escape from the pair of eyes which so reminded him of the first regrowth of leaves after an endless, dark winter. A near exact replica of his beloved Lily's eyes.
Although Harry's glasses were still at Number Four Privet drive, and he was now in the infirmary at Hogwarts, Harry was surprised to find no urgent need for reunification with them. Although the world around him lacked perfect clarity, and the most distant objects in the ward were relegated to smudges of colours without distinct edges, Harry found that his unaided vision had greatly improved since the summer began.
He could discern Severus's sallow face, as the man lay on the adjacent bed. He noted the obsidian eyes and matching jet black hair, although his myopic vision did not allow him to see the fine lines and scars which marred the man's pale complexion. In that moment, Harry thought that his father looked completely unchanged from the grieving man he had been almost seventeen years in the past. To Harry, time had folded upon itself, and that man was no more than a metre or so away.
Severus attempted to turn from Harry, but found he could not. The excuses of being in too much pain, or being too weak eluded him. It was as though something else compelled him to continue to face the boy.
Concern was the first thing that Severus considered, but he quickly pushed that thought aside. He was certainly not concerned for Potter.
Harry broke the uncomfortable silence, treading cautiously. "Professor Snape? Are you okay, sir?"
Taken aback by either Potter's uncharacteristic politeness, or the fact that the boy had spoken at all, Severus could not readily concoct a sarcastic retort. The boy was trembling, and only seemed to want reassurance. "I am alive. How do you fare, Potter? You've been unconscious for nearly two days."
"A bit sore...and tired." Harry spoke hesitantly, noting that his father's face lacked its customary sneer. Was it that Snape was too exhausted to sneer properly, or did he have no desire to do so?
Severus's face showed only a vestige of repressed agony as his eyes disappeared behind long, dark lashed lids. "Madam Pomfrey should be along to sort you out shortly."
Harry suspected that Severus had not closed his eyes out of exhaustion, but merely to avoid Harry's gaze. "Professor Snape..."
The dark eyes snapped open. "What is it, Potter?"
Harry had not decided on anything to say. He wanted to tell Snape of his journey freed from both the bonds of his body, and the linear timeline. He longed to tell Severus that he partially understood why he did the things he did, and why he could empathize with the choices the man had made in his youth. Most of all, he wanted to tell Professor Snape that he was his son, and would very much like to purge any remaining differences between them, and begin laying the foundation for what would hopefully be an amicable relationship. Sadly, Harry knew that speaking of any of these things might not only offend the older man, but would be dangerous to both of them as well.
"WHAT, Potter?" Snape sounded annoyed now. He threw back the blanket, and tried wearily to prop himself up with his badly bruised arm. He supported himself on his elbow for only two seconds before he collapsed back onto the bed.
"Uh..." Harry randomly asked another question he had been wondering about. "How did I end up in Hogwarts? And in the infirmary?"
Knowing full well that Harry had been unconscious since he nearly drowned that day, but not wanting to admit that he had been the one who rescued the boy, Snape answered with a question. "You don't remember?"
"No," Harry replied, noticing that Snape was purposely avoiding his gaze. "Last thing I remember, I was at my Uncle's house, and then I woke up here." He intentionally omitted details. "Do you know who...?"
"The person who rescued you from a most grievous death," Headmaster Dumbledore walked across the empty infirmary and placed a hand on the long haired man's shoulder, "was Professor Snape."
"Rescued?" Harry rubbed his still hairless chin as he searched his vague memories. "I was drowning...I couldn't raise my head from under the water..."
Seeing that Snape was not going to offer any information, Dumbledore volunteered it. "It was in the report that Professor Snape submitted to me." The Headmaster pulled a parchment out of his robes and opened it halfway, the report of the Death Eater meeting safely hidden from his innocent eyes. Harry squinted to read the small, neat handwriting and recognized it as Professor Snape's scrawl. He gasped at how detailed the report was, covering every thing from the description of the Dursley's flower beds to--
Harry dropped the parchment when he read the description of his injuries following his being pulled from the tub. The memories of the beating at the hands of his cousin and friends, as well as his being cast into the tub, and being helpless to prevent his own drowning flared into the forefront of his mind. Trailing behind, were the fainter memories of a little boy being held under unbearably hot water.
Severus Snape suddenly found a reserve of strength that had previously eluded him, and rolled over, turning his back to the headmaster and Harry. He pulled the covers over himself, leaving only the upper portion of his head visible. Locks of his ungreased black hair cascaded over the pillow, and hung over the edge of the bed. Harry noted that Snape's almost iridescent, ivory black hair was the same shade as his own. From what he had seen in the Mirror of Erised, James Potter had slightly lighter black hair, perhaps the same shade as the darkest coffee. Harry noted that Severus's hair near the follicles seemed to grow outward and away from his scalp. Harry wondered if Snape were to cut off his long tresses, would the hair become as hard to tame as his? Might that be why the older man normally wore so much oil in his hair?
The headmaster rolled the parchment and spelled it away. He reached over to Harry and rubbed comforting circles about his back. Harry's gaze had not left the man, facing away from him in the adjacent bed. "Professor Snape?"
"Potter, do you intend on telling me something of significance, or do you merely take pleasure in saying my name, and otherwise making a nuisance of yourself?"
"I–I just wanted to say...well-- thank you...sir." Harry knew it sounded lame, but it was all he could manage with his mind suddenly so full. It was an irony, a profound paradox which played in his mind like unceasing, overly loud, background music. Severus Snape, along with Lily Evans, had given Harry life, yet the former hadn't, and still didn't know that he had done so. Harry had indirectly saved Severus by defeating the Dark Lord whilst still an infant, thereby buying years for this spy, who otherwise would not have lived past his twenty-fifth birthday. Together, both of them saved the lives of many wizards, yet neither fully understood that they had saved the other. Of late, things had come full circle, and Severus had saved Harry yet again, as he had done time and again over the last six years.
"It was no more than any other person would have done." Snape said in a dismissive tone. "Headmaster Dumbledore sent me, and is more deserving of your gratitude. However..." Severus shifted his position slightly, but did not face the boy "...you...you're welcome."
Thinking that Severus was either too tired to talk, or was merely being his usual antisocial self, the Headmaster and Harry initiated their own conversation.
Severus thought it safest to feign sleep or indifference, but he could not deny that he was feeling relieved that the boy had lived yet again. Had he arrived in the upstairs bathroom at Number Four Privet Drive just moments later... Severus did not want to think about that, but the feeling of immense relief that followed when he had managed to revive Potter washed over him yet again. 'Yes,' he admitted only to himself. Be cursed if any living soul were to find out. 'I am relieved that Potter is still alive.'
Still engaged in a conversation about cockroach clusters, the Headmaster paused briefly and looked in Snape's direction, his blue eyes twinkling once again like distant pulsars.
Poppy came in a while later to do her rounds. Not wanting to incur the school nurse's wrath, Dumbledore politely excused himself and promised to return later.
"How are you feeling today, Mr Potter?" Madam Pomfrey asked somewhat brusquely as she raised Harry's pajama top and began her assessment.
"Great! Never better." Harry lied.
Madam Pomfrey regarded him suspiciously as she continued her work. Although she had been able to heal Harry's most critical injuries, it would take a few days for the pain and discomfort to fully subside. The potions needed to restore the proper balance in his considerably dilute blood would leave him feeling dizzy. Snape often acted the same way, no matter how bad his condition. What was it about these two men? Each of them spent more time in the infirmary than most of their peers combined, yet neither usually came on his own accord. Harry was often dragged in by his friends, or else was brought in via the mobilicorpus spell.
Professor Severus Snape, unless unconscious, or otherwise forcibly coerced, would not seek help at all.
Madam Pomfrey gave Harry a few potions and pulled the covers back over him. She washed her hands in a nearby basin and moved over to the more gravely injured man.
Harry knew that he ought to respect Professor Snape's privacy and turn away, as the man had done while Madam Pomfrey worked on him, yet he could not help but steal brief glances in his direction as he lay on his back. He had seen his father receive these particular injuries, and had seen him at his most vulnerable, after all. Harry regretted his decision as a faint gasp escaped him when he saw the wounds riddling the man's body.
Both Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape turned toward him, but Harry pretended to be retching at the taste of the second bottle of potion still in his hands. He thought he saw amusement in Snape's eyes at that, and concluded that Professor Snape must add inert, but extremely bitter substances to his potions from time to time.
Harry rolled over, facing away from them. "Blech! Disgusting...ugh!" He exaggerated his reactions to the third potion to cover up his musings. He wondered why Professor Snape's body was in such bad condition. The bruising along Snape's chest and sides looked very fresh, and the cuts on his legs looked as though they might still ooze blood if the sheets or bandaging materials rubbed them even slightly too hard. Knowing that Madam Pomfrey was fastidious enough to spell a paper cut closed if one were presented to her, Harry figured that Snape must have refused Poppy's healing spells. Judging from the amount of pain he appeared to be in, Professor Snape must not have not taken any of his own healing potions either.
'Did the man have to be so stubborn, even in matters of his health?' Harry grumbled to himself. 'And he calls me and my da–James, arrogant? How much more arrogant can you be than to refuse healing when you really need it? For what? Just to prove that you're a tough bloke or something? That you can gut things out no matter how severe?'
Harry stopped his line of thought abruptly when he realized that Snape might be just sneaky enough to probe his mind without his knowledge. He would not want to be caught thinking those thoughts. For that matter, he would need to push thoughts of everything he had seen in the past few days as far back as possible. How ironic that the same man who had made Harry despise occlumency with a passion, should be the same one to make him want to practice it more then ever.
Madam Pomfrey tucked the blankets up to Snape's neck when she finished her ministrations on him. Working with a patient who could not be readily healed was hard enough, but not being able to alleviate, or even reduce the pain was infinitely worse. It did not help matters much that Severus's face showed little to no pain, Poppy knew from experience that even the slightest microgesture from him meant agony the average person could barely endure.
As she made to head to the kitchens for a meal which she would beg the house elves to prepare heavily with strong, mind-numbing magical liquors, she began to prepare proposals in her mind. The first she would write after dinner; it would call for a ban of Interventio Interferus potions and its derivatives. There were absolutely no redeeming values in them, even though some medifolk had touted it as a promising treatment for substance addiction.
She would also write a recommendation that Professor Severus Snape be released from duty as a spy. Of late, it appeared that he-who-must-must-not-be-named was becoming more vicious, especially against Professor Snape. No matter how valuable the information Severus managed bring back to the order, the price he was paying was far greater. How long would it be before he ended up permanently maimed or dead?
"URFF!" Poppy exclaimed when she bumped into Remus Lupin. His arms were so laden with flowers and muggle candies that he could hardly see around the pile.
"Oh I'm so sorry, Poppy!" The fair haired man said, whilst attempting to balance a box of jelly beans on the top of the pile. "I just ran into a bunch of people outside who wanted to send some get well gifts to Professor Snape and Harry Potter."
Not wanting to also treat Remus for a back injury or something equally severe, Poppy waved him in without further delay. The thought of Lupin being in the hospital wing with Snape there as well was quite frightening. While it wouldn't be as bad as when they were students at Hogwarts, she knew that it would at least result in one or both of them trying to escape from the infirmary. She already had enough trouble trying to keep Severus there.
"Poppy!" It was Professor Mcgonagall's voice. "I'm on my way to the kitchens. Care to join me?"
"Delighted!" Madam Pomfrey sighed with relief.
"Professor Lupin!" Harry shouted, effectively startling Severus, who had begun to doze off.
"Hello Harry, Hello Severus." The man moved somewhat haltingly into the room, despite all the improvements Severus had made to the wolfsbane potion, the post-transformation period was still exhausting.
"What are you doing, Lupin?" Snape's voice was heavy with annoyance and disturbed rest. "I would advise you not to attempt to transport so many things at once. You could end up..." Snape's sneer returned. "...hurting yourself."
Although Severus said nothing more, he couldn't help but notice Professor Lupin's gait. His limp was far more pronounced, and he moved slower than he normally would at this time of the month. Severus lay back and began pondering the wolfsbane potion. What sort of anti-inflammatory ingredients could he add without inhibiting the properties of the potion? He would have to begin work on it as soon as he was able to return to his laboratories.
"News travels quickly in the magical world it would seem. These are from some of your students, Severus, mostly the female ones I might add." Lupin placed some of the sweets on Severus's tray table before placing the rest on Harry's, " these are from your friends Harry."
I've never seen some of these confections before, but they smell like chocolate and seem safe." Lupin distributed the sweets and flowers, then sat down between the two beds. He looked from Severus to Harry in turn. It was with great relief that he noted that Harry and Severus were neither exchanging words that would have made McGonagall blush, or else hexing each other at the slightest provocation. A good sign indeed.
"I went to Number Four Privet Drive and got your things, Harry." Lupin unzipped a large rucksack and immediately placed Harry's glasses back on the boy's face. "The Dursleys hired cleaners to take care of the flood damage on the second floor of their house, so it was easy for me to sneak in."
Harry rummaged through the bag and was relieved to find most of his school books, letters from his friends, smuggled sugar-free snacks from Hermione, and baked treats from Ron. Best of all, his wand was there as well. "Thanks, but didn't the cleaning crew notice you though?"
"Not at all, I just gave one of the workers a sleeping potion in his coffee, stole his uniform and hat, and kept my head down the whole time we were working. I got to run that vavoom cleaner." Lupin said, smiling. " When the boss called for our lunch break, I snatched up your things and left."
Realizing that he could see equally well with his glasses as without them, Harry placed his spectacles on the bedside table and lay back. "Thanks, Professor Lupin."
Lupin beamed at being addressed as "Professor Lupin" again. He was overjoyed that he would be returning as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor once more. He would have to leave and start working on his lesson plans soon. The students were at least two years behind in their lessons, judging from the quality of the teachers who were employed in the position in the preceding years. "Don't worry about the rest of your things, Harry. They've already been taken up to Gryffindor tower, and Hedwig is doing just fine at the owlry."
They spoke a while longer, over some of Harry's sweets, which he was still happy to share, having not had treats to share in the earlier years of his life. He finally bid Professor Remus Lupin farewell when Madam Pomfrey returned and ordered him to "leave the patients to rest!".
"Good night, Harry. Good Night, Severus." Lupin hugged Harry, then walked over to Severus and patted his shoulder.
"Night, Lupin." Snape replied, fending off the werewolf's hands. "And you've done a faulty job as a cleaner!"
"What?" Remus asked, his amber eyes round like saucers. "You weren't there, how do you know I did a faulty job as a cleaner with the muggles?"
Severus answered so softly that Harry could hardly hear, but he thought he heard Severus say, "because you failed to use the vavoom cleaner on the Dursleys. That would have indeed been a thorough job."
After a light supper of clear soup and tea, Harry propped himself up, and began rifling through the less familiar muggle treats on his tray table. Severus, not feeling tired yet, did the same, recognizing none of the muggle confections amongst the chocolate frogs and every flavour beans before him. Harry picked out a large chocolate bar with a blue and white wrapper on it and began munching away. Severus watched Harry discreetly for a while, then found an identical candy bar in his own pile of treats and decided it was safe to eat. Who but a muggle would think to put crunchy rice into a milk chocolate bar? Severus made plans to venture into muggle London for more of these chocolate bars when he recovered.
Harry rummaged through the pile again, and unwrapped a package of peanut butter cups. He watched in amusement when Snape did the same. Harry entertained the idea of asking Ron or Hermione to get some friends to deliver some Warheads, Hot Peppers or Super Lemon sweets whilst they were still in the hospital. Knowing that Snape would only eat what he saw Harry eating first to prove its safety, his old man was in for some nasty surprises.
But tomorrow, Snape would wake up to a much more pleasant surprise, Harry thought, stroking he smooth holly wood of his wand. Harry had read his Charms texts since the beginning of Summer, and had memorised some of the basic healing charms. Once he was sure Snape was asleep, he would heal some of the man's wounds.
Shortly after Madam Pomfrey made her final rounds, and had extinguished the torches in the infirmary, Severus sat up abruptly in his bed. At first Harry thought that the older man had positioned himself in a bad way, and had jumped up in pain, but Harry noticed that Severus was clutching his left arm.
He was being summoned!
The man yanked the intravenous line out of his right arm, and tried to sit up. 'Why had Madam Pomfrey employed a muggle method of administering fluids like that?' Harry wondered.
Harry could see little more than Professor Snape's silhouette in the darkened room, but he could discern that Snape's face was contorted in agony. The man raised the hem of his white pajamas, and attempted to remove the tubes still draining fluids from his body, but only succeeded in causing himself greater pain. Professor Snape started shuddering in a effort to keep from crying out, and eventually pulled a pillow over his face and vocalized into it.
Harry was at a loss as to what to do at this point. Surely Professor Snape wasn't actually going to a Death Eater Meeting? What could he do in this condition? Lay on the floor and hope to trip his victims if they went on a raid? And if Voldemort wanted Professor Snape to brew potions, he was more likely to fall into his own caldron, than to accomplish those tasks with any degree of proficiency.
Professor Snape recovered somewhat, and began shredding the sheets from his bed. He used the strips of fabric to secure the tubes to himself to prevent further injury by his movements, and after readjusting his pajamas, he limped out of bed and made for the door leading out of the infirmary. With luck, he could run back to his chambers unencumbered, change into his Death Eater attire, and arrive at the meeting without too much delay.
"Professor Snape?" Harry forestalled the man, just as he reached for the handle on the door.
"WHAT, POTTER?" Professor Snape glared at Harry.
"Where are you going?"
"That is none of your concern," Severus hissed, but when Harry sat up and made to leave his own bed, Severus elaborated. "To the toilet, you infernal boy! I'm going to the toilet, now go back to sleep before Madam Pomfrey has a fit!"
"But there's no one else here in the infirmary." Harry stated, motioning to the door not more than two metres away from their beds. "Why not use the loo here?"
"Because I prefer my own toilet, not the same one you, or other students and staff have sat on!" Now Harry wondered why Professor Snape got so annoyed at students for concocting stupid excuses, when he came up with arguably the stupidest one Harry had ever heard. Granted, he was unprepared for the question, but surely some one like Professor Snape would have said something more believable.
Time was suddenly slowed to Harry. He continued to gaze at the silhouette of his father in the doorway, his long black hair gleaming in the flickering torchlight from the hall. Harry was suddenly overcome by sadness, desperation and longing. This was his father, how could he stand idly by, and watch the man walk into what might be his death? Even if there was no love between them, Severus Snape saved his life. It was time to return the favour.
'How dare Voldemort take my parents away?' Harry thought, anger rising inside of him like the froth on a caldron heated for too long. The rage was far more intense than any of Harry's other emotions. 'Be damned if he takes my only remaining parent away. Voldemort won't have him!'
Heedless of the pain exploding in his body, Harry lunged at the door. After quickly determining the least injured area of his body, Harry wrapped his arms around the area just below Severus's waist and wrenched him back into the infirmary.
"Potter!" Snape yelled, struggling against Harry's surprisingly firm grip. "What the bloody hell are you doing?"
Harry was concentrating too hard on restraining the older man to reply. He knew he had to tell Dumbledore, Pomfrey, Lupin...or anyone who could help for that matter.
"Potter, have you gone mental?" Snape grated, struggling harder this time. "Release me this instant!"
"NEVER!" Harry shouted his reply as loudly as he could, hoping that Madam Pomfrey would hear.
Harry tightened his grip and continued to drag the grappling man back to his bed. They were only a few strides away from their beds when Severus succeeded in prying Harry's arms off, the inertia of their movements causing the boy to be thrown backwards onto the floor. Harry scrambled up, and ran after Severus who had resumed his course towards the exit, and grabbed him around the waist again. Exasperated, Severus forcefully pulled himself free, the extreme motion sent Harry careening into the metal railings on one of the empty beds. He hit his head hard, and lay motionless on the floor where he fell, a slow trickle of blood appearing around his head.
"Potter?" Snape yelled, dropping to the floor beside the boy. "Potter!"
End Part Seven
